Xoloitzcuintli, The Hounds of Hell
by Jo Z. Pierce
Summary: BPRD Agent Liz Sherman has a solo case involving animal mutilations in Texas. But when a hunch leads her to begin an investigation on another case outside of BPRD jurisdiction, Hellboy gets worried. Liz/Hellboy. Mild Violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Xoloitzcuintli, The Hounds of Hell**

_Movieverse. Written for Lexie in the 2008 Yuletide Fanfiction exchange._

* * *

Elizabeth Sherman looked around the dirty, overcrowded bedroom. Through the smelly cigar smoke that filled the air, she watched the large red demon named Hellboy pump iron. She was obviously disgusted, but this time it had nothing to do with the state of the room.

"Manning's sending me to Texas again," she finally said, breaking the silence.

"Crap." It sounded somewhere between a question and a statement.

"I bet it's some cow mutilations. Again."

"I bet Pop loves that," Hellboy mumbled, between the exertion of pumping iron and chewing on the nub of a cigar. As soon as the words crossed his lips, Hellboy paused, mid-crunch. Cautiously, he looked across the room at Liz as she petted one of Hellboy's cats. Her expression quickly turned from disgust to depression and disappointment. Hellboy's heart sank a little, realizing he had said exactly the wrong thing.

It was painfully obvious that he was sending Liz out on a low priority case. Again. And they both realized that she'd probably be accompanied by Professor Broom. Again.

It wasn't often that Agent Manning, the head of the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense (BPRD) sent agents into the field alone. He sometimes did the highest priority ones - the ones that Hellboy worked on. But that was usually by Hellboy's own request.

But this was different. He usually sent agents out solo on the lowest priority cases. So sending Liz out on a low priority case, like animal mutilations, was one thing. Sending her out on the case with a chaperone was another.

"I'll talk to him," Hellboy said confidently. He tried to brush aside the fact that he had just implied that Professor Broom, their adoptive father, would be babysitting Liz.

"What are you going to say, HB? Stop giving Liz the worst assignments?"

"Among other things." Hellboy resumed his weight lifting, once again making light of his slip up.

"Yeah. That will help."

Liz appreciated his concern, but knew that it would only make matters worse. Of everyone at the Bureau, Hellboy was most like her big brother - overprotective, and always ready to stand up for her. That relationship was reassuring when she first came to the Bureau, as a young teen. Then, she had just lost her entire family in a fire she had inadvertently caused with her emerging pyrotechnic powers. Back then, it was comforting to know that some semblance of a family existed for her at the BPRD. But now, as a grown woman, the last thing she wanted was protection. Or a patronizing colleague.

"At least you get out of this place once in a while," Hellboy continued, still mumbling through his teeth as he smoked his cigar. "Without being escorted around in a big garbage truck!"

"Yeah. Well, at least you get treated like an agent."

Once again, Hellboy paused, mid-crunch. He looked over at Liz again, this time more concerned than ever. His little sister was grown up. And for the first time, Hellboy truly noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

Liz stood in front of the large tank in Professor Broom's library as she waited for him to arrive. She held the new case files in her hand, uninterested. As she waited, her fellow agent Abe Sapien kept her company, even if separated by a thick sheet of glass.

"Why do I always get stuck with the worst cases, Abe?" Liz asked, almost in a whine.

"You know that's not true, Liz." Abe corrected her, gently.

If Hellboy was like her big brother, Abe was closer to her best friend. Somehow, she felt connected to him. As an Icthyo sapiens, Abe had his own special abilities. Although a valued agent at BPRD, it appeared to Liz that the merman was also treated like a lesser agent. At least that's what it appeared to be, when compared to Hellboy. Then again, everyone was somehow lower on the pecking order than Hellboy. Even Manning. Especially Manning.

Abe, however, never saw it that way. Still, with his combination of insight and psychic abilities, he shared a special connection to Liz.

"We all get sent where we are needed, Liz," he said, as he swam in his tank.

Liz cringed at the remark as Abe realized he had said the wrong thing. He hadn't meant to imply that Liz wasn't needed, but that was how she took the remark. Trying to diffuse the tension that suddenly built in the room, Abe asked a new question.

"Did you ask Manning why he's sending you on this case?"

"He just mumbled something about a lot of public contact. Interviews."

"Well, it's true. It's not as if they can send me out to some Ranch in Texas and hope that I just ... blend in."

"Abe. I don't just blend in, either!"

"Now who's said the wrong thing...?" Abe asked.

Between the two of them, Liz's special abilities were hidden to the world. Her ability to produce fire was a relatively rare occurrence, emerging only except under extreme circumstances when her pyrotechnic abilities surfaced. But Abe, like Hellboy, and many of the other agents at the Bureau, were obviously not "normal." In addition to their special powers, many of them looked different. Few even looked human at all.

Abe kicked his legs, swam away from the glass, and made a figure 8 underwater, as if to stress the point that he was indeed one of the agents who could never blend in "out there."

"I'm sorry, Abe," Liz responded, realizing the irony in her remark. Both Abe and Hellboy were really different on the outside - "Freaks" as Manning liked to call them publically.

Abe put his webbed hand on the glass of his tank and waited for her to grudgingly press her hand up against his. Although sometimes that was a way for him to read her thoughts and emotions, this time the contact was more a gesture of solidarity, and of reassurance.

"Who knows? Perhaps this time it's a real case. Not all of the cattle mutilations in Texas are going to be easily explained. Perhaps you will find evidence of some paranormal entity, after all"

Liz rolled her eyes, unimpressed. This was not the first time she had been sent out west to investigate cattle mutilations. But each time, there was a perfect explanation. The local kids playing around. Electric fences. Hoaxes.

"Liz, I know how you feel."

Again, she rolled her eyes. Empathy from a telepath seemed like a poor consolation.

"We all do. We all feel as if you don't fit in. And we all wonder what we are doing here, at the Bureau. But at least you can ... pass. Out there."

"It doesn't feel like it." Liz was torn. Knowing her ability to pass in public gave her the responsibility to take on the cases that needed more public contact. It also made her more likely to get the hoaxes. More importantly, she was torn by the fact that although she looked normal, her powers always meant that she really wasn't. Worse yet, she could never fully explain to Abe or Hellboy.

"He doesn't know what to do with you, you know," Abe said, after a moment of silence. "You make him... uncomfortable."

The comment seemed silly. After all, most of the special agents at the BPRD made Manning uncomfortable. Sometimes it was their special abilities or their physical characteristics that made him nervous. Sometimes it was just their special understanding, appreciation, or respect of the paranormal that bothered him. But when it came down to it, Manning never fully accepted the supernatural, and its place in the natural world. That is why Manning saw his job as the person who had to control all the uncontrollable things in the world.

"You make him... nervous. Because he sees himself in you. Neither of you can control the powers that surround them."

Somehow, that made sense to Liz. She could not control her pyrotechnic powers yet, as Manning could not really control the paranormal world, or even the agents under his supervision. Hellboy always made that perfectly clear, no matter how often Professor Broom tried to keep him in line.

Yet, despite Abe's wisdom, Liz still found it to be poor consolation.

"I just wish he would stop treating me like a child."

"I wish he'd stop treating me like a main course."

For the first time, Liz broke a small smile.

"But what if I don't ever gain control over this?" She held up her hands, inspecting them - not with curiosity, but with disdain and frustration. Not in control over her powers, and not in control over her place at BPRD, she seemed to drift into a state of deeper depression.

"Liz," a deep voice answered from the other side of the library, taking her by surprise. "Being a good agent will take more than that, you know."

Liz swung around to find Professor Broom standing near the doorway.

"It will take good instincts, and attention to details."

She had no idea how long he had been listening in, but she guessed it was long enough.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, as he approached Liz and Abe in the tank.

"Whenever you are," she answered, unenthusiastically.

"Oh, I'm not going this time," Broom replied, offhandedly. He slowly walked away, turning the pages of the books placed in front of Abe's tank as he walked by.

"Not going?" Liz asked, in a surprised voice.

"You don't need me, do you?" he responded, again, not giving away much emotion.

"But..."

"You don't, do you?"

"No, sir," Liz responded, hesitantly.

"Just remember to report in," Broom added, as he walked to his desk and picked up a book. Liz simply nodded in response.

"Remember, Liz," Broom called out as she left the room, "A good agent always looks for the details...."

"I know."

"And Liz," he added, again with a fatherly look, and a soft smile. "Remember to always expect the unexpected. Your whole world - everything - can change with the blink of an eye."


	3. Chapter 3

After a short flight, Agent Sherman arrived at the "El Cerrado Ranch" the next morning with a rental car. The east Texas ranch was located a few miles north off of Interstate-20. Yet despite it's proximity to a major highway, it appeared to be at the end of the world.

"So, you're a student, Ms. Sherman?" a tall man with a pronounced twang asked Liz, as he greeted her at the edge of the dirt road.

"Yes," Liz answered, uncomfortably. "Folklore and mythology." It was as good an alibi as any for this sort of investigation.

"Don't you have anything else to study?" he asked, sarcastically. Not even looking for a reaction, he continued. "Sheriff Hardy called yesterday, but it wasn't worth his time to come out. Nobody cares about some dead sheep. That is, nobody but you, it seems."

"Sheep?"

"MMMhmmm."

"I thought it was cattle..." Liz asked, looking at some notes she had scribbled on her notepad. She'd check her bag for the actual case files later.

"What difference does it make?" The rancher motioned to a bright red pick up truck. He waited just long enough so that she could jump in the passenger side. By the rough terrain she soon found herself in, she was glad she didn't take her own rental, even if it was insured on the government's dime.

He pointed over to the area, as they approached. Then he sighed deeply.

"Look, I heard it all. UFOs. Government conspiracy. The Chupacabra. But no matter what you think, there's nothing new here. Between you and me, it's probably some punk kids is all." Looking at the young woman, the rancher grimaced.

"Well, I don't believe it either, really," Liz replied, once again reminded of the triviality of her assignment. "But, it's for my paper..."

The two climbed out of the truck, and walked a few yards until she saw the first bits of the remains. She was used to the cattle mutilations, but this seemed like more of the same. Just some dead animals, lying out in the sun.

Every case seemed a little different, it seemed. Strange markings. Defleshed skeletons. Scattered hides. Every once in a while it was interesting, when whoever was responsible got creative.

She remembered the time when she and Professor Broom were on an assignment in Oklahoma. There, they found two defleshed cows, whose carcasses were dressed in bright, floral, polyester Moo-Moos. The memory of a hoaxster's sick sense of humor made her grimace. But only for a moment.

This time, she noticed something strange. The sheep weren't exactly mutilated. In fact, the bodies were mainly intact. There were just some bite marks on the two emaciated sheep carcasses, which looked as if they had been left out too long in the dry Texas heat and sun.

Liz opened her shoulder bag and took out her Polaroid camera. Asking permission, she took some photographs.

"I thought this happened this week," Liz asked, noting the state of mummification of the dead livestock.

"Day before yesterday."

The rancher's answer made her pause, mid-shoot. She looked at him, to confirm, and he simply shrugged it off. If the remains were only a few days old, and they were completely desiccated, something must have sucked them dry.

"I heard this wasn't the first time around here," she continued, with a bit more curiosity than a few minutes before. She took a few more photos, including some close ups.

"So I've heard. Look, nothing personal, Miss, but nobody really cares about this. Two sheep. Sherriff's got his hands full. What's a couple of sheep? Hmph! All I know is I am out $200."

"Well, I'm just trying to help."

Incredulous, the rancher turned to his pick up truck. "If you wanna waste your time, go right ahead. But you're no help to me."


	4. Chapter 4

From her rental car at a truck stop, Liz made her first call back to the BPRD.

"I didn't expect to hear from you so soon, Liz," Abe replied, a bit surprised to be the one receiving her first call.

"Nothing much to see. Rancher thinks it's just some local kids."

"Do you think that's what it is?"

"Probably," she responded. "Just some dead sheep carcasses. Nothing out of the ordinary." Remembering Professor Broom's warning, she decided to be safe.

"Except one little thing. Maybe you can look something up for me, quickly. Just to be sure."

"Of course. I'm at your service, Liz."

"They seemed pretty dried up. Like mummies. Seemed too fast, considering it's only been a few days."

"Really, Very interesting. Let me check our files." Abe was silent for a moment. Liz assumed he was simply concentrating as he checked the BPRD database, but his next words made it clear that he was simply hesitant.

"You know, Hellboy was asking about you. Twice."

"Tell him I'm ok."

"He heard the Professor let you go alone."

"And?" Liz replied, defensively.

"Oh. Nothing. You know he won't stand up to father."

"I know."

"But he took it out on Manning later."

Liz smiled a bit at the thought, but forced herself to get serious. With most people, a smile over the phone would probably go undetected. With Abe, it was probably too late already. Still, she tried to hold back her emotions.

"Ah, here we are," Abe said, in the excited way only a PhD could be after finding some obscure minutiae hidden away in some obscure database. "Blood sucking... livestock... sounds like the Chupacabra..."

"Wait, Abe. He mentioned something about a Chupacabra," Liz said, again her curiosity growing.

"The Chupacabra. The Goat Sucker, from the Spanish. Chupar - to suck, and cabra - the goat."

"What does it say, Blue," Liz asked, not as interested in etymology as Abe was.

"Now this is interesting. There have been twelve reports of the Chupacabra in eastern Texas, New Mexico, and Mexico in the past 6 months. Hmm. All within a one hundred mile radius of Pecos. That's near where you are, isn't it, Liz?"

"Not too far away."

"Well, then, perhaps your sheep were sucked dry... but the Chupacabra!" Abe tried to sound excited - to give Liz some hope that her first solo case might indeed be interesting.

"Well, this is the first time I've heard of it."

"Some mythology student..."

"Very funny."

"Most of the sightings have been dismissed as stray dogs, or mangy coyotes. That sort of thing. But the online Paranormal Community..."

Liz laughed. It was a bit of a joke at the Bureau; there were thousands of believers in the paranormal who had no idea of what was really out there. Although potentially the Bureau's greatest allies, there was little communication between the two. Still, the countless websites, each with irrefutable "proof" of ghosts and goblins, were always a potential resource for the "pros" at the BPRD.

"Ok, I understand. Thanks, Blue."

"You're welcome, Liz. And good luck."

"Thanks. And, could you just tell Hellboy..." She paused for a brief moment. "Could you just tell him I'm ok?"

"I will. Although when you get the chance, I think he'd rather hear it from you."


	5. Chapter 5

Liz walked into Sheriff Hardy's office. Although located just far enough outside of Pecos to be considered a rural precinct, the room was crowded and buzzing with activity.

"You'd be surprised how many people really believe in this who-haw," a young officer responded to Liz, after she asked to speak to someone about local sightings of the Chupacabra.

"Nothing surprises me," she responded. She waited a few minutes while the Sheriff was called over. After some harsh words, he chided Liz for wasting his time.

"We've got more important things to do than chase down some goblin... or whatever."

"I won't be much trouble, Sheriff."

"You already are." Reluctantly, he led Liz into the back of the room, where he left her at a deputy's desk. Again, he mumbled how he had more important things to do.

"I'm sure," Liz mumbled, in reply. The tone of her voice sounded a bit like sarcasm. At least that's how it was interpreted. The sarcasm was more about her disappointment with her own case than skepticism of the Sheriff's caseload.

"I'll have you know, Miss," the deputy responded. "We've got a serial killer on our hands." The deputy seemed as annoyed as his superior at her inquiry. Still, he got up to make his way to some file cabinets a few desks down.

"And a serial killer? That trumps your sheep, and your Chupawoopa!"

"Serial killer?" Liz asked. She now understood why the Sheriff's office was surprisingly busy.

The deputy looked up at Liz in disbelief. He shuffled through the files, and pulled out a thin manila envelope.

"She hears about the Chupawoopa, but not about the Kennel Cannibal." The deputy shook his head in patronizing amazement.

"Kennel....?" Liz didn't even get a chance to finish her response, and ask about the more gruesome part of the killer's name. The deputy returned to his seat.

"Here's your files. Dead ends. All of them. Nothing but garbage in there." He made it clear that no one took the cases seriously. And if they were serious cases, she certainly wouldn't have access to them.

As Liz flipped through the file, she casually asked about the serial killer again.

"Kennel Cannibal? Guess that's what the media calls him. You know, part of the killer's psychological profile. The only thing this guy's victims had in common? They all bred dogs."

"Dog breeders?"

"Yeah, and that's all we got. Even the FBI, from Washington, they've got nothing. Men, women, young, old. Completely random. Except they all had expensive dogs."

"And you think he's here? In your area."

"Last victim came from just out of town. So you'd better be careful, too. Stranger like you travelling around, all alone like you are."

"Don't worry about me," Liz said. It was then that he noticed her sidearm. Although not uncommon in these parts, it seemed a bit unusual for a young woman to carrying a pistol. After inquiring about her license, he finally turned the subject back to Liz's supposed research project.

"If you were smart, you'd do an article on the serial killer. That's real news."

"I'm not a journalism student. I'm...."

"Don't matter to me what you want to waste your time on. Just stay out of our way." The deputy left Liz alone for a few minutes as he went to speak with the Sheriff once again.

Liz shuffled through the pages of the files, looking over the case files which had all been shoved into one manila envelope. There wasn't a lot there, as if only a few notes had been taken, if and when a police report was filed at all. There were a few addresses, and several eyewitness drawings. Even one photograph of a bloated, hairless grey animal, apparently decomposing in the east Texas sun.

"Looks like a mangy old dog to me..." Liz mumbled under her breath, remembering Abe's description of the accounts.

She took out her notepad, and jotted down the names of the witnesses and their contacts. Then, while the Sheriff and deputies weren't looking - which was the whole time - she took a few pages out of the files and stuffed them into her bag.

If these sightings were of the so called Chupacabra - real or not - they were more part of her jurisdiction than theirs.


	6. Chapter 6

Outside the Sheriff's office, Liz made a quick call back to BPRD. Again, surprised by the call, Abe acted as both friend and research consultant, even if he was more reluctant this time.

"Look, this serial killer is targeting dog breeders. Of rare breeds. Then there's this picture of ... of a dog in a case file in the same town that they're calling a Chupacabra."

"Liz, that makes no sense. They're unrelated."

"Maybe. But I've got a hunch about this, Abe," Liz explained.

"You're deviating from your case. And into dangerous territory, I might add."

"You know I can protect myself."

"You can, if you control your pyrotechnic powers, Liz. And you don't know for sure that you can."

"Just do me a favor and get me some addresses of local breeders. Or I'll do it myself... if you don't want to help..."

"Ok," Abe said, as he began to once again search through the database. As she waited, she heard a loud crash in the background on the other end of the phone.

"What was that?"

"Shhhh!" a muffled voice demanded on the other end of the line.

"Oh, nothing, Liz. Nothing. Hold on. Here we go. Basenjis. Catahoula leopards. Thai Ridgebacks. Xolo dogs..."

In between his list, Liz heard another crashing sound, and another muffled "Shhh!"

"Abe, that sounds like Hellboy. Sounds like he's pacing across the floor." It was a wild guess, but she could just imagine him bumping into piles of books as he absentmindedly paced in the library.

"Well, now that you mention it..."

"Shhhh!"

"What is he doing there?"

"Um, just visiting..." Abe's voice seemed nervous, as if he was under threat of physical harm if he didn't say the right thing.

"Put him on the phone, then," Liz asked, annoyed that a secret meeting between Red and Blue, no doubt in her honor, was taking place back at the Bureau.

But instead of Hellboy's voice, she heard nothing but mumbled conversations going back and forth. Finally, Hellboy's deep voice came through on the other end.

"Hey. Liz. What's new?"

"Are you checking up on me?"

Again, she heard mumbling back and forth on the line, this time as if someone placed a big red hand over the telephone receiver. He was checking up on her, she realized, and Abe was in on it.

Back at the Bureau, Hellboy heard the phone click.

Nervous, he looked around, checking who was there. But he knew it was only him and Abe in the room. Nevertheless, his voice rose just as little bit, as he continued the phone conversation.

"Ok. Ok Liz. I know you'll be ok. Just make sure to check in..."

"You're not fooling anyone, Red," Abe said, gently taking the phone out of Hellboy's hand and pulling it away from his ear.


	7. Chapter 7

"Nothing so far."

Liz was upset, and it showed in her voice, even over the phone. It was bad enough that Hellboy was checking up on her about her first solo case, but now Professor Broom was checking in on her.

"Are you sticking with your original case...?"

"Yes."

"That's not what I heard," he said, cautioning with a stern voice.

"I'm taking your advice, professor, to expect the unexpected..." She tried to hold her temper, but it was clear that Abe and Hellboy had gone to Broom.

"Liz, your case was animal mutilations. But now you are getting involved in a criminal case? You know that is clearly outside of our jurisdiction."

"Look, I know you vouched for me. But don't do this to me."

"No. Liz, don't do this to yourself."

"Ok. I know, Professor."

"Do you? Really?"

Liz realized that his question was for her own good. But she also knew that she had to follow her gut instincts on this one.


	8. Chapter 8

After swallowing her pride enough to call Abe once again, she finally had the names of all breeders in the region. Over the next two days, she made her way through the list, alternating between the names and addresses of witnesses she found in the case files at the Sheriff's office, and the business addresses of rare and exotic dog breeders. Following I-20, and working her way through back roads with a road map and a GPS system, she carried out her investigation as best she could.

The encounters with the Chupacabra eyewitnesses were all a waste of time, as far as she could tell. One witness was a legally blind woman who enjoyed few visitors in her trailer park. She plied Liz with stale cookies and bitter coffee as she told of the encounter.

"I heard it for three nights! Every night, it got closer and closer. Then that last night, my Fluffy never came home." The lady showed Liz the photo of an angry, smushed-faced Himalayan cat in a dime store frame.

"Did you see it? What did it look like?"

"No, but some neighbor's kids said they saw it. Looked like a monster! With spikes on the back. And fangs!"

Next, Liz spent a few minutes interviewing a man in his mid-thirties, living in a converted apartment in his parents' garage. A firm believer in the paranormal, his accounts were clearly everything Liz wanted to hear, leading her to the conclusion that his account was more of series of pick-up lines than an actual sighting.

The next interview was with a couple in Barstow which specialized in breeding Afghan hounds of the highest lineage.

"We've had some concerns lately."

"The news says this serial killer's been targeting breeders."

"State troopers have been by twice. And the Sheriff, too."

More than just unsuccessful, the conversation was mind numbing.

As she sat in her car, checking off another name and address on her list, a call came through.

"Hey, Liz. You ok?"

"What do you want, HB?" Liz asked. Although her voice sounded annoyed, she was actually relieved to be torn away from the mediocrity of this case for a moment.

"Um, just wondering how it's going."

"Why are you checking up on me?"

"It's Abe. He's been worried."

"Abe?"

"Yeah. Abe. He keeps asking if you called. He's driving me crazy."

For once, Liz knew exactly what it was like to have Abe's psychic powers. She read Hellboy like a book, straight through his lie.

"Just tell him I'm ok."

"You sure? You don't need back up?"

"I'm fine. This case isn't going anywhere, anyway." The disappointment was clear in her voice, as she filled him in on some of the details. She decided it was best to leave out her encounter with the horny amateur paranormal investigator.

"Oh, well, then. Just call it quits. Come on back home."

"Goodbye, Red."

It was bad enough she was on a dead-end case. She certainly wasn't going to call it quits before she followed every last lead. She hung up her phone, slightly annoyed, but strangely secure, knowing that Hellboy was looking out for her - even at a distance.


	9. Chapter 9

Next on the list was another breeder, this time of Xoloitzcuintli dogs. This one was way off the beaten trail, half way north to a town called Kermit. She laughed at the name. Finally arriving, she approached the ramshackle house with a large metal outbuilding in the back. A fading sign read:

"Xolo Kennels - Mexican Hairless Dogs."

She went up to the main house and knocked.

Suddenly the door opened. At that moment, her breath left her. She inhaled deeply, in shock at who - or what - stood in front of her, standing in the doorway. It was the greatest shock she could have ever imagined.

"Hellboy? What are you doing here?" Liz finally asked, when her breath finally returned.

"Back up, babe."

"How'd you know?"

"You're easy to track," he confessed, pointing at the communication equipment hanging from her belt. Although she was furious, she was secretly glad to have the friendly company.

"Manning sent you as back up?" she finally asked.

"No."

"Professor Broom."

"No. I just...."

"You stole a Bureau jet?"

"Copter. Hey, I was just... worried about you. You going it alone like this..."

"You do it all the time, solo," Liz snipped.

"That's different."

"Why? I can't take care of myself?"

Nervous about responding, Hellboy took a cigar out of his coat pocket and lit up. Finally, after a few inhales, he used his thumb to point to the inside of the house.

"No one's home. I knocked."

"What if someone answered," Liz asked, annoyed at Hellboy's recklessness. Even in this rural backwater, the damage control of explaining a Hellboy sighting was more than she wanted to deal with. Especially if Manning got wind of it.

"I was gonna hide in the bushes." Hellboy's answer was simple, and oddly enough, honest.

The two agents headed for the outbuilding.

"Maybe I should go in first," Liz reminded her big red colleague.

"Ok, but I've got your back."

Through the front door, Liz slowly walked in, and called out a greeting. As she entered, she was struck by a loud cacophony of howls, and an awful smell. Entering the large metal outbuilding, she looked around only to see rows upon rows of cages, stacked three levels high. She quickly estimated that there were several hundred dogs, caged and alone. All of the cages were filled, except for two, whose doors were open.

Hellboy entered the building, weapon still drawn and ready, just in case. He looked around, in disgust.

"How much is that doggie in the window...." Hellboy joked, offhandedly. Liz rolled her eyes at him.

"Reminds me of your room, back home." Liz joked, trying to ignore the deplorable conditions the animals were being kept in.

"Nah. I've got central air."

"HB," Liz finally asked, as they walked through the building. "Notice anything strange?"

"These dogs could sure use a bath."

"Yeah, they could. No one's changed their cages lately, have they...?"

"Hmmmph! I'll stick to cats..."

"Wait a minute," Liz said, as they walked through down the length of the building. "These dogs look familiar." Quickly remembering her case files, she pulled out some pictures from her bag. With a look of disappointment, she handed over a photo and a few sketched to the big red agent besides her.

"Well, here we have it," Hellboy said, inspecting the images. "The legendary breeding grounds of the Chupacabra."

"Those so called sightings? Probably just sick dogs being dumped by the side of the road." Liz concluded.

"And they call me a demon," Hellboy commented, growing more disgusted with every step he took. He was no expert, but certainly there were hundreds of health code violations going on all around him.

Liz realized that she had no good reason to continue with her investigations, now that the mystery of the so called Chupacabra was solved. She put away her firearm, sighed, and stuffed the photo and drawings back into her bag. This certainly wasn't the most important case ever handled by BPRD. In fact, as far as she could see there was certainly no paranormal activity going on here.

Still, even if this was outside her jurisdiction, she decided that maybe this one time she made a difference. A quick call to the ASPCA, and at least one more puppy mill would be out of business.

Still, it wouldn't help her standing at the BPRD. She sighed, and simply said "Case closed."

Hellboy paused, and continued to chomp on his cigar. Finally, after a moment, he simply said. "Uh, maybe not..."

Liz looked at Hellboy, who was standing with his oversized pistol at the ready. On alert, he nodded his head towards the back door. There was a light shining through, from underneath the door. As they got closer to the door, they could hear the low sound of a TV from the room, underneath the barking noise of the dogs. More disturbing than that, the awful stench they smelt was getting stronger.

"That doesn't smell like the dogs..." Hellboy said, warning Liz that she should stay on guard.

Neither said a word. As they approached the door, it became clearer that the case might not yet be over. That stench? They had smelt all too many times before. It was the smell of death.

Cautiously, Hellboy approached the door, and swung it open. In the back was a small office, as dingy and dilapidated as the main house. Dark wood paneling dating to some bygone era made the room even darker. And old black fan - the kind with no grill from some old noir film - swirled the smell of death throughout the room. A small color TV with bad reception blared some awful local commercials that featured local used car salesmen and monster truck rallies. The place was a mess.

"HB, there's something wrong here..."

"No kidding."

It wasn't the first time they had seen dead bodies. Unfortunately, in this business, the grim and macabre was all too commonplace. But there was something different about the two corpses they found lying in a corner of the room.

"That one," Liz said, pointing. "It looks like ... like the sheep."

Hellboy seemed confused by the comparison. Quickly, she quickly shuffled through her bag again, and pulled out a few Polaroid pictures from a few days before on the Cerrado Ranch.

Like the sheep, the first person was emaciated. But in a dark room, and not lying out in the sun, it became clear that the remains were indeed sucked dry.

"I knew it," Liz said, finally vindicated that her gut reaction was right. "I knew there was some connection..."

What was even stranger was the other corpse was in the same state, but there was considerably less of the body remaining. Scattered around the second body, limbs had been torn away, and left behind were the scattered bones picked clean of flesh.

"Well, well, well," Hellboy said, as he approached the mound of death. "Would you look at who's coming to dinner."


	10. Chapter 10

Liz and Hellboy, weapons at ready, circled the room. It was unclear when the murders had taken place. If this was anything like the sheep, which was a mere two days old, the victim could have been killed very recently. The only clue was a calendar, which displayed that day's date.

"Hellboy," Liz said, nervously, "looks like we might have interrupted someone."

"Well, if our Chupacabra is still here, let's see if he's friendly," Hellboy dared, as he called out, mockingly.

"Here Chupa, Chupa, Chupy!"

Gun ready, Liz began to look around. Suddenly, she froze in her tracks.

"Here they are," she said, pointing out some photographs on the wall. The two victims, in grainy color pictures, stared back at her. A few other pictures, no doubt of family members, also stared down at the grim scene.

"Recognize any of them."

"No."

The two finished their sweep of the office, and then made their way back into the kennels. A full sweep of the building, then of the surrounding area outside, came up completely clean.

"So what does this leave us with," Liz asked

"Not much."

"Except a connection with the Kennel Cannibal and our Chupacabra...."

"You think one of those dogs got loose, and went to town?"

Liz shrugged, as she tried to make the connection clear.

"Maybe Abe was right. Maybe there's no connection."

Hellboy looked at Liz. Trying to link the two cases, she finally shook her head in defeat.

"They're both right here, but it just doesn't make sense..."

"Tell me one thing about this job that does make sense..."


	11. Chapter 11

When the police arrived, Hellboy was conveniently nowhere to be found. As hard as they tried, the two agents couldn't convince that this was a case that involved anything from the paranormal world. As sick as it was, there was no reason to believe that this was anything more than the demented operations of a cannibalistic serial killer. Sure, the story arc of a Chupacabra made it appealing to anyone wanting to see paranormal connections. But in reality, it seemed like nothing more than the misfortunate demise of some Xoloitzcuintli breeders by a sick murderer. It might have been a coincidence, but there was nothing clearly paranormal about it.

Giving her slightly revised version of the discovery to Sheriff Hardy, he questioned her about why she was here.

"I didn't think you'd really try to look into the case..."

"I wasn't. It was just... dumb luck..."

"You're saying that those dogs have been our Chupacabra all along...?"

"Like the deputy said, the killer targeted people with rare dogs."

She left the scene with the deputy, who was instructed to take her account and get a background check on her.

"Ok, Ms. Sherman, your references are good," the deputy finally informed her, explaining that they had gotten a hold of her Professor back in New York.

"Professor Corrigan confirmed you were just here doing a school paper."

Liz was glad that she used the cover, but knew for sure that contacting Kate Corrigan, professor of Foklore at NYU, and another agent at the BPRD, would alert the Bureau of what was going on in the case. But more than her own reputation, she knew that Manning was probably already looking for Hellboy.

Still, it didn't matter. The case was over, as far as she was concerned. This was in the hands of the local Sheriff's office.

She drove out of town before she picked up her communicator to contact Hellboy, worried that someone would be watching.

"HB? Are you there?"

"Yeah Babe. Still snooping around."

"Don't get caught. I'm in enough trouble to begin with." Both knew, however, that Liz really meant that it was Hellboy who was really in trouble.

"What's going on there?"

"Usual. Lots of media. Cops. Forensics geeks. Everybody wants a bit of the action."

"Do you need me to pick you up?"

"Nah. I'll hitch a ride." Liz decided not to ask how. It was easier that way. It was always easier.

The two arranged to meet along the isolated back road where had left the BPRD copter. When she finally arrived, Hellboy jumped out of the cockpit.

"Find out anything new?"

"Nothing," Hellboy reported. "Just two more victims of the Cannibal Killer. Nothing more than your everyday human psychopath."

"And what's going to happen to our Chupacabras?"

"Dog catcher's coming..."

"Well, seems like it's out of our hands," Liz said, ready to close to case, once again.

"Except for those sheep."

"What?"

"You never did find out what happened with those sheep," Hellboy pointed out. "I don't think our serial killer went sheep hunting. Do you?"

"Coincidence?" Liz was at her wit's end. Confused, she was second guessing herself. Was it time to give up and head back home?

"Red, I don't know what to do."

The two got back into Liz's rental, and turned on the news to listen to the latest updates of the crime scene. By now, the latest killings by the Kennel Cannibal were the headline story on every Texas channel. The news was probably going national by now. Yet despite that, there was really nothing new to report. Newscasters repeated the same information minute by minute, ultimately reporting on nothing.

Finally, a new break in the story, as an announcer cut in.

"Animal control officers have arrived at the scene of the most recent murders to confiscate hundreds of dogs. But in a new twist in this story, two officers guarding the premises have been found dead, and all of the dogs have been removed. Animal control officers are asking anyone who has any information to contact them..."

Liz and Hellboy looked at each other, in shock. Then, Liz once again pulled out some photos.

"You and your photos," Hellboy snipped.

"A good agent always looks for the details." Liz handed some photos to Hellboy, pointing out some overlooked features.

"Look. Look at the sheep... and the bite marks..."

"Are they human?"

"No... No. They're not." Liz made a final connection. "What kind of serial killer goes after people, and sheep?"

"Little Bo Peep?"

"More like the big, bad wolf."


	12. Chapter 12

Back on I-20, Liz headed back east, towards the scene of the crime. She tried to make sure that her big, red passenger sat low in his seat, as not to be detected.

"You should be lying on the back seat."

"We should have taken the chopper, Liz."

"Are you kidding? You're hard enough to hide as it is."

As Liz drove, Hellboy made a quick call to Abe.

"You know, Red, Manning has forbidden me to talk to you until you, and the chopper, are back."

"Give me a break, Blue."

"I just thought you should know..."

"Look, gimme some of that brain power, ok?"

"What do you need?"

"Tell me about Werewolves."

"Werewolves? I thought you were looking for the Chupacabra!"

"What's the difference?"

"Well, the Chupacabra is native to the Americas, but first reported in the 1990s. Not much to go on, but it feeds on livestock. Reports of Lycanthropes, or werewolves, on the other hand, go back centuries. They are shape shifters, with the ability to take the shape of half man, half wolves, usually around the full moon. That depends on which tradition you ..."

"Never mind that. What do they eat?"

"Typically, human flesh..."

"Human flesh. Gotcha. That's what we're looking for. And are they always half-wolf?"

"Well, werewolves, by definition, would be... half -wolf."

"Ok, then what else is like a werewolf... but not a werewolf."

"Is this some kind of trick question?"

"Come on, Blue. Think. Could it be a half-dog?"

"Well, I don't know. Hold on."

"Ok, what else eats human flesh?"

"Red, that could be anything! Zombies. Wendigos. Gouls..."

"Right."

"Hannibal Lecter..."

"What?"

"You know. Silence of the Lambs."

"Funny." Hellboy appreciated the sheep reference, but only just a little.

"Or maybe it's something we've never encountered."

"Crap."

"Red, I'm not sure what you've got out there. So be careful."

"Don't worry. Piece of cake."

"Or a piece of Pie."

"What?"

"Sweeney Todd."

Hellboy hung up the phone, without saying goodbye.


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn't long after Hellboy's conversation with Abe that a large tractor trailer passed them by.

"Wait a minute," Hellboy said to Liz. "If you were taking a hundred or so dogs for a walk, how'd you do it?"

"I wouldn't." Quickly understanding his comment, she slammed on the brakes. Crossing over the divide, she made a 180 degree turn.

"How do we know it's this truck?" Liz asked Hellboy, as they followed the speeding tractor trailer.

"I got a hunch." Hellboy sat up, and chomped at the nub of his cigar.

At over 100 miles an hour, the two agents quickly reached the trailer.

"Hold on!" Hellboy called out to Liz, as she slowed down to match the trailer's speed. With little effort, he opened the passenger side door of the car. With the larger of his too hands, he easily grabbed the rear bumper, and pulled himself onto the back. The trailer began to sway slightly, no doubt as the driver observed in the rear view mirror what was going on behind him.

Secure that Hellboy had a good foothold on the back of the trailer, Liz once again accelerated, so that she quickly matched the speed of the cab. Honking at the driver, she let out a few warning shots out of the passenger side window.

"Pull over!" Liz screamed, waving her gun in the air, as a second and final warning. The truck accelerated. Liz matched his speed, again firing shots at the vehicle. This time, she tried to aim a little higher.

"Dammit!" she cried out in anger and frustration, as she tried to fire at the truck while driving at high speed. The result was more of an interpretive dance that Liz and the driver performed along the highway. To make matters worse, the Interstate became an obstacle course, as she tried to avoid the moving traffic. She decided to aim lower, at the wheels. When she realized her ammunition had run out, she decided to make her way up front and nudge him off the road. She swerved the car, but suddenly realized her grip on the steering wheel was fading.

Like butter in her hands, the steering wheel began to melt through her fingertips, and the seat of the car burst into flames.

"You should be stopping by now..." she calmly noted, as she hoped she could distract him enough that he would pull over. Instead, the truck only accelerated out of panic.

The other cars on the road began to pull over or skid off the road. Some were like dominoes, as they began to fold onto one another in a series of collisions.

"What are you doing, Liz?" Hellboy noted, as he looked at the chaotic scene unfolding all around him in what seemed like just a few seconds. Then, as if on cue, he instinctively realized that Liz's car was about to become completely engulfed in flames. And that could only mean one thing...

It was going to blow.

Through the flames, Liz could barely make out the outline of the big, red figure making its way along the side of the trailer. From the left hand side of the truck's hood, Hellboy jumped onto the flaming car. Instinctively, he reached into driver's side window, and pulled Liz -now a ball of flames- out. In one fluid motion, he then bounded back onto the hood of the moving truck, carrying Liz with him to safety.

Liz's car drifted across the highway, overturned, and exploded.

Standing on the hood of the truck, Hellboy and Liz grabbed onto the windshield, the grill, and the rear view mirrors. Liz's pyrotechnic powers began to intensify. The driver, surprised by the whole scene, quickly swerved in panic. Then, he swerved again, as if trying to break free of the burning couple that were now perched in front of his windshield. As if the couple blocking his view were a stop sign straight from hell, the driver pressed on the brakes as he felt the temperature in the cab quickly rise. Realizing all was lost, he abandoned the cab, jumped out, and fell out of the truck. Within a moment, the cab was engulfed in flames. The trailer fishtailed, and lurched to the right.

As the tractor trailer toppled over, Hellboy grabbed Liz, and leapt onto the ground, out of way of the tumbling wreck.

As the wreckage started to burn, and the chaos of a multi-vehicle crash on the road began to unfold, Hellboy quickly surveyed the scene. Taking just a moment to light up a cigar, he mumbled something to himself.

"You know, I really hope this was the right truck..."

Still, it was no time to second guess himself. He ran to the cab of the truck and tore it apart from the trailer. With one hand, he lifted the cab into the air, and tossed it away from the road, in order to contain the fire. The trailer lay on its side, completely immobile.

Again, Hellboy looked around. This time he looked at the pile up on the Interstate. It was only a half dozen cars, as far as he could see. People started to emerge from their cars to help the injured. This, to him, meant that the mess would be quickly taken care of by local authorities. Traffic control, he figured, was out of his jurisdiction.

Psychopathic murderers, however, he could deal with.

He ran towards the driver, now lying in the middle of the Interstate. A broken and battered mess, he was barely conscious as Hellboy lifted him up with one hand by his charred clothes.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked Hellboy, coughing and coking through each word.

"I'm the dog catcher!" Hellboy blew a mouthful of smoke into his face.

As the flames began to subside around Liz, Hellboy carried the broken driver back towards the wreckage. It was then that there was movement coming from inside the trailer.

"Ah, Crap." Hellboy grumbled, as Liz made her way to join him near the trailer door. "Hold this," he said, as he dropped the driver at Liz's feet.

"Well, we'd better get him tied up, before he decides he's hungry and wants a snack."

"That's your job," Hellboy responded. "I've gotta walk the dogs."

As the trailer rocked and swayed on its side, Hellboy went for the lock on the door. But opening the door to unleash something completely unknown seemed like a bad idea. So instead, he pried and rolled open a corner of the door, like a sardine can top, just enough to see what was inside.

As the sunlight entered the cab, illuminating the inside of the trailer, he was greeting by no less than a hundred gnarling, growling beasts of hell. These weren't the sad Xolo dogs, mistreated and locked in the cages of some puppy mill. Instead, these were instruments of pain and mistreatment, themselves. Transformed, these canines had fangs, spiked ridges along their backs, and claws the size of talons.

"Woah! Good dog!" he cried out, as the first one growled at him, showing teeth the size of beer cans. As if on cue, the beasts began their attack, as they began to fight their way to Hellboy. One by one, Hellboy punched them back into the trailer.

With a deep sigh, he reached for something at his side, and pulled a large grenade off of his belt.

"Ok, Rover. Who wants to play fetch?"

He quickly tossed the grenade into the trailer, then unrolled the opening as effortlessly as he had opened it. With one big explosion, the trailer stretched and expanded, like a giant aluminum popping pan of Jiffy-Pop popcorn.

Slowly, as smoke began to rise out from the trailer, the noise settled down. A few muffled growls and whimpers echoed through the smoking metal frame, but the scene seemed to be finally contained.


	14. Chapter 14

A State Trooper directed traffic out of the way of the smoking truck. Several ambulances, fire trucks, police cars, and unmarked government vehicles were scattered along the highway, examining the scene of the accidents. As the scene unfolded, one government agent argued with local authorities over jurisdiction, as the cameras and press filmed the scene.

"The suspect will be escorted by helicopter to a hospital facility," the agent argued.

"Agent Manning!" one reporter called out from the crowd. "Is the FBI sure that the victim in this crash was the serial killer known as the Kennel Cannibal?"

"We are not prepared at the moment to make a positive identification," Manning responded, in his typical whitewash tone. "But I can assure you that the FBI will be working closely with local officials to confirm the identity of the victim, and to deal with the animals associated with this case."

As additional questions poured forth from the crowd, a big truck with ASPCA written boldly on the side pulled up directly behind the wreckage. Two officers in animal control uniforms began to transfer the dogs - both live and the remains of the dead - into the back of the official vehicle. By this time, the remaining few beasts had transformed themselves back into the harmless Xoloitzcuintli. And although the passengers in the cars had no idea of their potential danger, the officers took every precaution to contain the canines before they shape shifted again.

Almost as soon as they had arrived, the BPRD clean up vehicle, disguised as an ASPCA truck, was ready to leave the scene.

Just before the doors to the trucks closed, a large cloaked figure quickly moved into the animal rescue vehicle. No one saw exactly who it was, but it was clearly smoking a cigar.


	15. Chapter 15

Back at Bureau headquarters, Liz sat with Professor Broom and Abe in Broom's library as they poured through reference books.

"Well, as far as I can tell, it looks like a completely new shape shifting species." Abe closed the book he was reading, and sighed. "Bred specifically for the purpose of hunting prey."

"Yes, Abe. I tend to agree."

"And our breeder?" Abe asked Broom.

"So far, nothing paranormal about him. Just a psychopathic cannibal who happened to discover the new species, and decided to use them to his own advantage. First, he'd kill the breeders, and quickly introduce the species into their kennels. Hoping to go unnoticed at first, I guess he hoped to eventually pass the shape shifting gene into the general canine population. At least, that's all we can tell. For now."

"And the sheep?" Liz asked, slightly distracted. "Just in between feedings?" Broom and Abe shrugged, in noncommittal agreement.

"So, was this really the Chupacabra?" Liz hoped at least for some closure to the case.

"Well, we don't know," Abe chimed in. "The sightings are new, only within the past 20 years. Maybe this is what we've been hearing reports of - a new creature, unknown to humanity until now."

"Well, whatever they are, Liz, you have made a new discovery in the field of paranormal investigations." The professor looked at Liz, as she sat deep in thought.

"Still, it seems there are a lot of questions about this case that will no doubt remain unanswered..."

"I suppose so," Liz agreed, weakly.

"...Such as Hellboy's role." Broom introduced the new subject delicately. "Manning told me that you specifically requested that Hellboy come to your aid."

"That's what I told him," Liz confessed, her guilt transparent. Perhaps in a room without Abe, she might be able to pull off the lie. But with him sitting right beside her, everyone in the room realized it was all a charade.

"I told Manning he wouldn't have stolen a Bureau chopper if I hadn't asked him to."

"I see." Broom didn't look up at her. Instead, he leafed through the pages of some random book on his desk.

Although deception and falsifying reports was not something that Broom encouraged of his agents, it was fairly clear that this lie wasn't simply about helping Hellboy off the hook again. It was a pivotal point in their relationship, where both had committed to stand by each other's side, no matter what the consequences.

Come hell or high water, everyone in that room realized that Hellboy and Liz would forever be an inseparable team.


End file.
